


smuggler's bounty

by orphan_account



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M, Smuggling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 14:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,412
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14750672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Newly-Defected Armitage and Ben turn to smuggling to supplement their income.





	smuggler's bounty

**Author's Note:**

> it's not necessary information to enjoy this fic, but my head canon is that armitage defected from the first order and ben defected from the resistance and they're now doing their own thing under the banner of "the defection." why ally yourself with the dark or the light when you and your boyfriend can start a grassroots organization with the intent to get you both elected emperors of the universe!

"Can I kiss you?" Ben asks.

"You've _been_ kissing me," Armitage informs him. He asks so sweetly, and so tentatively, as if there's even a remote possibility that Armitage will tell him 'no,' that he almost feels bad reminding Ben that they indeed have been kissing for the better part of the last five minutes.

"No, I mean - " He seems frustrated, now. It's cute - a good look on him, really, nose and mouth all furled in irritation - not at Armitage, but at himself for not imparting the meaning correctly. "When we go out there. Can I kiss you? Or would you prefer that I keep to myself?"

"There's a happy medium there, I think," Armitage muses - aloud, for Ben’s benefit. "We're going undercover as a couple, so I feel like it'd be suspicious if we didn't touch at all, but we risk unnecessary scrutiny if we're mounting each other like animals."

"You weren't complaining when I mounted you like an animal last night," Ben says. He’s being smug, which is, as surprising to Armitage now as it would have been the day they met, nearly as cute as his frustration.

"There'll be time for that later," Armitage reminds him. "When the job is done, and no sooner."

-

If Armitage allows Ben to slide a hand up the inside of his thigh, well - "no sooner" is overrated, anyway. They're supposed to be a couple, after all; maybe Ben's eagerness can be written off as the excitement that comes part and parcel with a honeymoon phase, literal or otherwise. Armitage hadn't gotten far enough into character yet to decide whether he and Ben are supposed to be newlyweds or simply insatiable.

They're not grifting particularly intelligent creatures, anyway - sentient, yes, but, Armitage practically sniffs in disdain, _barely_. They just need to hang around long enough to insinuate themselves into their surroundings so thoroughly that no one notices them smuggling a cool ten thousand dollars from a Defection-sympathetic bartender.

Not that Ben feels like this job is one for a pair of smugglers, anyway. "There's not really any smuggling involved, is there?" he'd pointed out to Armitage when they'd first started discussing the job. "I was half-expecting them to ask me to transport something out of there in my anal cavity."

"Be thankful that they didn't," Armitage had told him. "Not that you would have been able to, anyway, you're so fucking tight."

"Is that a compliment or an insult?" Ben had asked, genuinely curious. "Because it's been a while since you've fucked me, so it's probably true, at any rate."

Armitage shouldn't be thinking about fucking Ben right now, or Ben fucking him, or anything that includes fucking, actually, because Ben's hand stays resting on his inner thigh, upsettingly close-yet-far from his cock, and he wants to take the money and run - well, walk, so as not to arouse suspicion - without having to worry about doing so with either an erection or a wet spot on his pants.

"How much longer is this going to take?" Ben asks him, as quiet as the dead, just barely loud enough for Armitage to hear him. "I want to suck you off."

"We can do that when we're not in public," Armitage says. "And get your hand off my thigh."

"But you said that we could touch each other," Ben says, dangerously close to whining. That's cute, too, but only under certain circumstances - and now is not one of them.

His full mouth turns downward into a pout.

...Okay, it's a little cute even in this circumstance.

Armitage leans over and hooks his chin over Ben's shoulder, pressing his mouth to Ben's ear, hoping that he looks sappy and love-struck and not tense with arousal and an underlying fear of being caught when he whispers, "If you behave until we get back to our shuttle, I'll let you fuck me."

Ben flushes.

-

Armitage almost, _almost_ feels cheated by the fact that the bartender slides them the cash not too much later, though that feeling fades quickly, replaced by relief once they set foot back onto their shuttle. They make quick, efficient work of counting the cash to make sure that all of it's there, and then Ben makes quick, efficient work of divesting Armitage of his pants and briefs while Armitage taps the coordinates to their next destination onto the keypad and lets the shuttle take over from there.

"You're so impatient," he huffs, and he barely has time to turn his head to look back at Ben before Ben is pushing him up against the wall.

"You're calling me impatient?" he teases, kissing a spot on Armitage's neck and then beginning to work it with his teeth. "All I said back there is that I wanted to blow you. You were the one who begged me in public to fuck you."

"Excuse me? 'Beg'?" Armitage cries - not out of offense, but because Ben has somehow managed to slick up his fingers and slip two immediately into Armitage's ass. Their sex life is active and frequent enough that two doesn't feel like an unbearable intrusion, but the combination of the cold and the stretch has him gasping, still sore from last night.

"Yeah," Ben agrees easily. "You begged."

"I did no such thing!" Armitage snaps. "I had to pacify you so that you didn't blow our cover by slipping underneath the bar and blowing me right then and there. It's not my fault that you're such a slut."

"Not a slut," Ben grunts as he adds a third finger. Armitage wants to clench too-tight around them just to give Ben humbling pause, but then he crooks his fingers just right and has Armitage letting out a soft, wet sound of contentment. "I just have a healthy libido. And the point still stands: all I wanted to do when we got back here was blow you."

"I'm sure that it's very difficult for you to have to fuck me instead," Armitage says in sarcastic sympathy. "I offer only the most genuine and heartfelt of condolences. Now, get that fucking cock in me before I change my mind and don't let you do either."

Ben slides in - without a condom, of course; alleged sluttiness aside, Ben is fiercely loyal to Armitage, and Armitage to Ben - and Armitage bites his bottom lip to keep from making the embarrassing keening noise that desperately wants to escape his throat.

"'Change your mind,' huh?" Ben huffs, beginning to rock his hips up into Armitage. "What would you have done? Jacked yourself off while you made me watch, forbidding me to touch myself?"

"Maybe," Armitage says, voice strained. "Maybe I would have sent you to bed - _fuck_ , Ben, that feels so good - maybe I would have sent you to bed with your cock still hard and red and dripping."

"The threat of denial," Ben pants, "is somewhat undercut by you telling me how good I feel."

"Well, I'm not a liar," Armitage laughs. Ben is the only man who's ever made him laugh during sex. He changes his angle slightly, and Armitage makes a choking sound so vulgar and vulnerable that he can feel himself flush all the way down his neck. "You do feel so good, Ben, so fucking hot, fucking me just how I like. Maybe I would have taken pity on you and let you rut against my leg like a beast in heat until you came."

"I'm not even going to pretend like I'm not into that," Ben tells him sagely. "I think - _shit_ , I think I'm gonna come."

"Not until I come," Armitage grits out. "That's your punishment for fondling me in public - while on the job, no less. Get your hand on my cock and make me come all over the wall."

Ben slips a callused, damply hot hand around to Armitage's front, and it only takes a few pulls before Armitage is, in fact, coming all over the wall. Ben doesn’t even wait for Armitage's verbal permission before he's coming, too; in fact, Armitage rests his forehead against the wall and rides out the aftershocks while Ben is still messily fucking him from behind.

He attempts to slide down the wall once Ben pulls out of him; instead, Ben scoops him up into arms that Armitage can feel are still shaking from his orgasm. "If you drop me," he threatens, "you're not fucking me for a month."

All Ben hears in the threat is "job well done."


End file.
